


Let me take care of you.

by Anonymous



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Alec Hardy and His Broken Heart, Bisexual Alec Hardy, Bottom Alec, Crying During Sex, M/M, Praise Kink, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 19:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21081614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alec Hardy just wants to get pissed. He didn't plan on this.





	Let me take care of you.

It all happened very quickly. Frustrated with the case and with Miller and with the media, Hardy decided to get pissed. Not a good idea, with his heart and with the addictive tendencies in his family, but he doesn't really care right now. He just needs to survive a little bit longer anyway, so that he can solve Danny's murder and then Sandbrook and then to say a proper good bye to Daisy. So he took a taxi to a few towns north to avoid any further gossiping, found the local pub and ordered a wine. And another. He knew at that point he should stop soon cause he lost his bloody tolerance but he didn't really care. 

Then this guy turned up. Dean. Handsome. Of course he had to be bloody handsome. Ordered another wine for Hardy, a beer for himself. They talked. If he knew about this whole 'worst cop in Britain' debacle he didn't mention it. And then they disappered to a hotel a few streets down. It feels so bloody good to be wanted for the first time in years, Hardy thought. Dean is handsome, he thought. God, I need this, he thought. 

And here they are now. They're both stripped down to their boxers and Dean is slowly leading Hardy to the bed. Hardy can feel his heart jump in his chest and he swallows a rush of panic. Behave, he tells his heart. Please let me have this just this once. 

Dean smiles at Hardy.

'You alright there?'

Hardy nods. He leans forward, kisses Dean. Dean's hands wander up his naked back, settle on his shoulder blade and god, how much he'd missed to be touched. Not even sexually, just any kind of intimate touch. And then he's on the bed propped up against the head board, Dean sitting between his spread legs. Blue eyes are staring into brown one's, and Hardy smiles, slightly insecure. He's vulnerable, so goddamn vulnerable and he knows he shouldn't trust someone he's just met, but he does, and even if he didn't, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not right now, anyway, tipsy and longing as he is. 

Dean smiles back.

'Are you sure you want this, Alec?'

Hardy nods. 

'Yes. Please.'

His voice is raspy. Dean nods as well. 

'C'mon then, we'll need to get rid of these boxers.'

Gentle fingers stroke down Hardy's sides and then down his stomach and then they hook under the waistband of his underwear. Shortly after it lands on the floor, followed by Dean's pants. Hardy is lying on his side now, his skinny and lean form a contrast to Dean's muscular one next him. He feels lips pressing kisses to his collar bones, a love bite getting sucked into the skin just below his right collar bone while he fumbles for Dean's cock. He finds it half hard, pushes his hips forward to press their cocks together. The roughness of his hands slowly moving up and down around the both of them feels bloody good and judging by his quiet moan, Dean agrees with him. Dean kisses his way back up to Hardy's lips, one hand going down to join Hardy's. 

'Alec,' he mumbles, 'let me take care of you, yes?'

'Okay,' Hardy responds. 'How do you want me?'

'Is on your back okay? Want to see your pretty face.'

Hardy nods. He turns onto his back, watches Dean fish a bottle of lube and a condom from the pocket of his jeans that are discarded on the floor bext to the bed. And then Dean is on top of him again, kissing him. Hardy is kissing back with everything that he has, lets his hands explore Dean's back before settling on rubbing small circles onto his ribcage. When he feels two hands at his butt lightly pulling him upwards, he lifts his hips so that Dean can place a pillow underneath. Their cocks brush together in the process and fuck, Hardy isn't far off from just jerking both of them off until they come. Hardy breaks the kiss and Dean smiles down at him, one hand on Hardy's hip, the other on his lower belly, dangerously close to where Hardy wants so desperately to be touched.

'Have you done this before?,' Dean asks quietly.

Hardy nods, cheeks tinting the slightest shade of pink.

''S been a while, though.'

'We'll take it slow then.'

He nods again. Dean turns onto his side to have his hands free, opens the lube and lets some dribble into his hands. He buries his head at Hardy's side and his hair tickles on Hardy's skin. Hardy's breath hitches when Dean's slick fingers travel down the length of his cock, brush past his balls until they find his hole, circle around it. It really has been a long time since Hardy has done this with a man. He closes his eyes, buries his hand in Dean's dark curls, grits his teeth when Dean finally pushes a finger in.

'Alright?'

'Yes. Just not used to it anymore.'

'Tell me to stop if it's too uncomfortable.'

'Okay.'

Dean moves his finger inside of him, starts sucking more love bites into Hardy's skin, and Hardy relaxes. It feels fine now and he's just about to say so when a second finger pushes in along the first one, moving slowly in and out and almost instantly brushing past his prostate. Hardy lets out a small broken moan. Dean smiles, kisses slowly towards Alec's cock which is lying flush on his stomach.

'You're doing so good, Alec. So bloody good for me.'

Another moan, a little bit louder this time, is the answer. Christ, this feels good. Especially now, with Dean's breath slowly blowing over his cock. Fuck. When Dean's fingers stroke over his prostate a second time, Hardy's hips buck involuntarily. He feels his heart jump again amd curses himself for his bloody stupis decision, but calms down when he feels it fall back into a steady rhythm.

'You're so sensitive,' Dean says. It doesn't sound like a mocking, it sounds like a praise and shit, it's getting Hardy off. He shivers. 'It really has been a while, eh?'

His arousal is clearly audible in Hardy's voice when he responds.

'Mhm. Fuck, do that again.'

Dean curls his fingers and Hardy grinds down on him. Another finger joins and they start scissoring, slowly stretching Hardy until they're everything he can focus on. Dean is slowly turning, now lying on top of Hardy again, weight supported by his free hand. He sucks at Hardy's nipple and Hardy moans again.

'Shit. If you keep doing that I'm not gonna last.'

'That's alright, love. Just here to make you feel good.'

Hardy nods. He's overwhelmed, his brain not knowing what to do with all the suppressed emotions suddenly coming up again. He feels tears prickle at his eyes, but he tries to blink them away. Not now. Then Dean's fingers withdraw, making Hardy whine, and then they're replaced by a slicked up and condom covered cock slowly pushing in until it's buried to the hilt. Dean groans.

'You feel so good,' he mumbles. 

And then he kisses him again, so bloody gentle it's unbelievable, and Hardy is barely able to kiss back properly, making Dean smile once again. He breaks the kiss, rubs their noses together.

'Can you wrap your legs around my hips, darling?'

Hardy obeys. 

'Thank you,' Dean says. He pulls out, thrusts back in again, and again, building a slow but steady rhythm. 'You're so good for me, and so fucking beautiful.'

Hardy knows he's crying now. He can feel hot tears on his cheeks and he turns his head away, not wanting Dean to see. Of course Dean sees it anyway. He leans forward, slowly kisses the tears away.

'Hey, love. Hey. It's alright, I've got you.'

Hardy shakes his head. Fuck, he's so bloody overwhelmed, and his brain has decided that crying is the only way to get the emotions out of his system. His chest shakes with a sob, making Dean stop.

'Alec, sweetheart, are you sure about this?'

A very small nod is the answer. 

'Look at me, please?'

Hardy turns his head. God, he must look like such a mess, with tears on his sweaty face, hair disheveled and eyes red and glazed over. Dean looks at him, raises a hand to stroke over his forehead, leans forward to kiss it.

'Please jus' keep going,' Hardy says, voice raspy from crying, words slurred and accent thick, 'I want this.'

Dean still doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he obeys, picks up his pace again, eyes focused on Hardy's face and ready to stop as soon as Hardy shows any sign of discomfort. Hardy smiles through his tears, moans brokenly when his prostate is hit, clenches around Dean, who moans as well. His hands find their way behind Dean's muscular back, slowly stroking down. Dean's thrusts accelerate the slightest bit.

'Fuck, Alec. You feel amazing, so fucking good. Shit.'

Hardy nods, grinds down to meet Dean's slow thrusts. 

'Touch me, please?,' he asks and Dean does, wraps a hand around Hardy's cock between them. His fingers stroke, slowly at first, smearing the precome over the head. Hardy curses out loud, his hips buck, once, twice.

Another moan escapes Dean's lips and his thrusts get a little quicker, rhythm more and more getting lost. 

'I'm close', Hardy mumbles. 

'Me, too, love. Me, too.'

And he hits Hardy's prostate again and Hardy clenches again and then he comes with a moan, spurts of white painting both their stomachs and dripping from Dean's hand. Dean follows suit, set off by the sudden tightness around his cock. He grabs a tissue from the night stand, wiping off the mess from their bodies. Then he pulls out, ties the condom, again wipes them off and then throws the condom along with the tissues onto the floor before collapsing next to Hardy. Their heads knock together in the process and they both laugh quietly, while Dean shifts a little, so that his head is lying next to Hardy's, nose buried in Hardy's hair.

'Alec?'

Hardy breathes in. Fuck. 

'Yes?'

'Are you alright?'

Hardy has been expecting that question. Doesn't mean that he has an answer, though.

'Fine.'

'Are you sure, love?'

'Yeah,' Hardy says. He hesitates, then adds, 'my life is just - a bit much at the moment. And I haven't been - intimate with anyone in a few years and that just opened the flood gates.'

'Well, you definitely didn't forget anything. Your hands are fucking skilled.'

Hardy scoffs, shakes his head, the corners of his mouth still rising slightly in a smile.

'Just telling the truth,' Dean defends. He shifts again, wraps an arm around Hardy and pulls the blanket over the both of them with the other.

'You're that copper right? From Broadchurch?'

'Yes,' Hardy answers. He doesn't really know what he is supposed to think of Dean knowing that but he supposes it's alright. Dean has to have known that before they had sex. This isn't a new information for him.

Dean doesn't say anything more about it. He pulls Hardy closer, presses a kiss into his hair.

'Are you staying?'

Hardy knows he should leave. He shouldn't have done any of this in the first place and now that he's done it, he should leave as soon as possible. Christ, staying would give Dean the possibility of finding out about his nightmares and panic attacks and heart condition. But he doesn't want to leave. It's comfy here, in Dean's arms and warm and he feels safe. Feels so much more comfortable and at ease in the arms of a virtual stranger than he's felt in the months of loneliness before. So he nods, closes his eyes. Dean nods as well.

'Good. That's good.'

Hardy turns in Dean's arms to face him.

'Good night, Dean. And thank you.'

Thank you for caring. That's what he means. Not the shag, of course, even though it has been bloody brilliant.

'Good night, Alec. Sleep well.'

And Hardy does. At least for a few hours.


End file.
